


Controlled Burn

by BurningLio



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Dubious Consent, M/M, Master/Slave, Power Imbalance, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, fucked-up beliefs as a consequence of a fucked-up society
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:20:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27620584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurningLio/pseuds/BurningLio
Summary: Galo Thymos has always believed that Promepolis's state-sponsored system of Burnish servitude is a necessary evil - but when an unexpected gift from Kray Foresight named Lio winds up in his possession, he is soon forced to confront the dark realities underlying the life he's always taken for granted.And as he finds himself growing closer to the fiercely rebellious Lio, he realizes he's going to have to make some difficult choices about where his loyalties truly lie.
Relationships: Kray Foresight/Lio Fotia, Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 21
Kudos: 86





	1. Escape

**Author's Note:**

> Some quick warnings before we get started!  
> \- This is a slavery AU, and while fighting the slavery system is a big part of the plot, in the beginning it's accepted as normal by Galo and a number of other characters we usually like. They'll come around and do the right thing eventually, but if that twist on characterization is something that bothers you, this is probably one to skip.  
> \- There is no noncon/abuse between Galo and Lio, but there _is_ an extreme power imbalance between them, so it might get a little uncomfortable at some points. Their relationship will eventually develop into something more equal and healthy, but it'll take a while to get them there.  
> \- There will be references to sex slavery, noncon, etc happening to Lio and other Burnish. Not sure yet if there will be any explicit depictions, but I will warn for that in the notes if it comes up.
> 
> If you're on board with all of that, then carry on and enjoy!

The first time Galo sees Lio - really sees him - is on the roof of the Foresight Foundation’s training annex, fully armored, glaring defiantly at him through the shattered visor of his helmet. And it takes his breath away.

Galo has met him before, of course - in passing at the Foundation’s headquarters, or standing silently to attention behind Kray’s chair on the rare occasion that the governor finds time for lunch with his erstwhile ward. He’d even consider them to be on decent terms as acquaintances. But here, with reflected flame flickering in his eyes, Lio might as well be a stranger, and it’s not only the shock of seeing him here that makes Galo keep staring. Later, reflecting on everything that has passed between him and Lio, Galo will think perhaps he understands why: it’s the first time he ever saw Lio truly unmasked, proud and defiant and - for the moment, at least - free, no longer softening himself for Galo’s benefit, projecting the image of a loyal, obedient slave.

In the moment, however, Galo knows none of this, and for a long, frozen moment he can only stand there and gape, stupidly wondering why he never realized that the Governor’s attendant was so beautiful.

And then Lio is in motion again and Galo is forced to respond. He wasn’t prepared for this fight - no one was. There hasn’t been a feral this deep in Promepolis in years; most fires are caused by brand new Burnish, unaccustomed to their power and easy enough to subdue. Occasionally there’s a runaway or an accident with a malfunctioning collar. A Burnish like this hasn’t been seen in years, not since Kray Foresight drove off the pack of ferals that used to menace the city. Mad Burnish, the media called them. 

He hadn’t expected a feral to show up at this call. He _certainly_ hadn’t expected that feral to be Kray Foresight’s favored slave - not a feral at all, really; Lio is properly trained, has every advantage afforded a domesticated Burnish that allows them a place in civilized society. He should not be here on this blazing rooftop, armored with flame, eyes wild with fury as he lunges for Galo with a flickering, bright sword in his hands. Galo sidesteps, trying to get in position to line up a shot, but it’s nearly impossible with the way Lio is moving, faster than Galo’s ever seen anyone move. He wonders if the armor enhances his physical abilities, like a mech suit, even though it’s slimmer and more agile than any mech suit could possibly be. There’s a very irrational corner of his mind that’s a little jealous.

“Stop this,” Galo finds himself calling out, a pleading note in his voice. “I don’t want to hurt you!”

There’s a derisive sneer on Lio’s face. “It’s amazing that you think I might actually believe that.”

“I’m being serious!” Galo bats Lio’s sword away from hitting any vital areas of the mech, sacrificing most of the armor on one arm in the process. “Let me help you! You don’t have to live like this—”

“It’s the only way we _can_ live,” Lio growls. “So I’ll take it.” He lunges, and Galo is out of options: it only takes a moment for Lio to slice what remains of the Matoi Tech into pieces. Galo is left sprawled on the ground, unarmored, with Lio’s sword pointed at his throat. “Give it up. You’re outmatched.”

“I’m not the one you have to beat,” Galo retorts. “We are.”

The rest of the team comes in then, right on queue - Aina descending from above, Varys and Remi closing in on either side, overwhelming Lio with freezing gunfire. It’s the opportunity he needs, and Lio is too distracted to be able to get out of the way of the Matoi Tech reassembling itself around him, cooling more rapidly than he can burn his way out.

When it’s all over, Lio lies sprawled on the ground a few feet away from Galo, temporary freezing rings deployed around his wrists, neck and ankles. Galo crouches next to him and helps him sit up, a bracing hand on his back. “It’s over,” he says softly. “Sorry about this. You’ll be home soon, Lio.”

Lio glares up at him, his entire posture still taut and defensive. “Fuck you.”

He doesn’t struggle when Freeze Force shows up, doesn’t resist as they cuff him and snap a suppressant collar around his neck. He doesn’t look at Galo again as he’s loaded into the transport, and Galo’s last glimpse of him before the door slams shut is him sitting shackled in the transport, hunched in on himself and looking impossibly small.

“Okay… was I imagining things, or was that the Governor’s attendant?” Varys says, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” Galo says softly, frowning. “Yeah, it was.”

—

It’s Kray Foresight who discovered the freezing technology used to defend against feral Burnish, Kray Foresight who made Promepolis into what it is today. Most importantly, it was Kray who invented the flame suppressant collars used to control the flame-producing mutation that makes the Burnish so dangerous. It’s thanks to him that Promepolis is as safe as it is - and the Burnish, who would otherwise either burn themselves out or live like animals in the wilderness, are able to have a place in human society.

“Thank you, Galo, for bringing Deucalion home to me. You’ve done me a great service.” Kray has his hands folded atop his desk, smiling at Galo, and Galo feels his chest swell with pride. 

“Just doing my job, Gov,” Galo says, casual, even affecting a little shrug like it was no big deal. But he’s still grinning ear to ear, too pleased with Kray’s praise to really hide it, or even care that his expression is ruining his attempt at a cool, devil-may-care attitude. “…How is he, anyway?”

Kray’s smile fades. “He is facing the consequences of his actions,” he says, his voice clipped. “I think it will be best to keep Deucalion out of the public eye for a time, until the attack is no longer so fresh on everyone’s minds. You understand, I think, why it might be bad for the Foundation’s image if his identity were known.”

Galo nods. Someone from the governor’s office had showed up at the Burning Rescue station later that same day and taken all of their footage of Galo’s fight with Lio, ensuring no images of the Burnish’s face could leak to the public. Lucia hadn’t been very happy about it, but she’d complied, even though she’s still grumbling about all that lost data she could have mined on the Matoi Tech’s performance.

“Did you know?” Galo asks him. “Who he was, I mean?”

Kray nods. “It was why I decided to purchase him. I believe it says a great deal about our rehabilitation process that we were able to tame him as much as we did. Harnessed correctly, he is truly remarkable. I only hope this little mishap has not set him back too badly.” Kray sighs.

“Well, with an owner like you I’m sure he’ll be doing better in no time!” Galo chirps, a smile returning easily to his face. “Lio’s really lucky to have you in his corner.”

Kray smiles again in return, though there’s something tighter and more guarded about the expression this time. He must, Galo thinks, be really worried about Deucalion. “And I am sure he’s well aware of that,” Kray says softly. “If not now… then he will be.”


	2. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lio's failure, as ever, has dire consequences.

“What _am_ I going to do with you, Deucalion?”

Lio grudgingly opens his eyes and lifts his head to look at his master, ignoring the ache pounding in the back of his skull. He’s been strung up in the courtyard outside the slave quarters for at least five days, wrists and ankles shackled to two thick parallel posts set up for this very purpose, his body spread-eagle and exposed. He’s been left here longer than he’s ever known this phase of punishment to go. As he’d expected, Kray had made an example of him as soon as he was safely in his master’s custody once again, gathering all of his household’s Burnish to see Lio flogged. All ordinary, except for the fact that Kray had wielded the bullwhip himself, and carried on a good deal longer than the standard floggings administered by his overseers. Lio had passed out before it was over, and it took nearly two full days for his back to regenerate completely.

Since then he’s been alone, left hanging naked in his bonds as a warning to the others, exposed to the elements. The most human contact he’s had is when the overseer brings him his cup of water every morning. His stomach is so empty it feels like it’s going to turn inside out, and he genuinely has no idea when he’s going to be allowed food again. One of the younger ones, too new to know any better, had tried to offer Lio part of her dinner on the second evening of his punishment. He feels bad for having snapped at her, but he doesn’t regret it. The punishments for interfering with household discipline are severe, and Lio refuses to see anyone else hurt because of his mistakes.

Kray is still watching him, waiting for a response. Lio is too tired and sore to play at giving a show of respect. “Why am I still here?” Lio says bluntly. “Why haven’t you had me sent in for reconditioning already?” It is surely what has happened to the others. He knows he got about two dozen of the other Burnish out of the complex before their plans were derailed, and those two dozen remain unaccounted for. He hasn’t seen any of them leaving the slave quarters in the morning or returning at night after their shifts. It’s common practice to put Burnish runaways through conditioning when they’re recaptured, regardless of whether they’ve been through it before. Most of them can’t endure a second or third reconditioning without permanently damaging their minds, and Lio knows that doesn’t matter, not when their obedience is the only ultimate goal.

“Because I wanted to give you a chance to understand the consequences of your actions,” Kray says calmly. He reaches out, lifts Lio’s chin with his hand to study his face. “You _do_ understand, yes? I am not an unreasonable man. I know you are only acting out of a misguided desire to protect your own kind. But you’re only hurting them, Lio. Destroying productive, well-adjusted slaves by dragging them down with you.”

Lio grits his teeth, glaring down at the ground. He wants to snap back, wants to _scream._ The indicator light on his collar flashes red as he fails to tamp down his anger completely, warning that his emotions are in a volatile, potentially dangerous state. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Kray’s gaze flick down to it, and his master’s smile widens. “Don’t act as if you care what happens to them,” Lio hisses. He’s in thoroughly dangerous territory now, but Kray still seems calm, doesn’t try to strike him yet.

“Haven’t I always welcomed your help, Deucalion? Encouraged you to come to me with anything your people needed?” Kray reaches out and strokes the side of Lio’s face, and Lio wants to jerk away but doesn’t have the strength.

“In exchange for being your lapdog, you mean,” Lio spits out. “Training my own people to submit to you, punishing them for you. You will never make me into your collaborator.”

“Discipline is an unfortunate necessity for an orderly community,” Kray says. “I want my Burnish to live comfortably here. You could have helped me make that happen. Instead, twenty-three healthy, valuable Burnish are dead because of you. A senseless waste of life.”

Lio feels as though the air was suddenly sucked from his lungs, suddenly sick to his stomach. “What?” he whispers.

“Did you not know?” Kray says coldly, though he must know that this is new information to Lio. Summary execution is not a normal way of dealing with runaways - Burnish slaves are too valuable for that - and who would have told him? Even if the other slaves know, they aren’t permitted to speak to Lio during his punishment. “Rebellious behavior at this scale… it was too much of a risk to let them live. I had them culled.”

Bullshit. 

“They posed no threat,” Lio says, ragged, through gritted teeth. “I was the one who orchestrated our escape. You… you fucking _know that._ If you were going to kill anyone for this it should have been me!”

Kray smiles thinly, an expression which doesn’t reach his narrowed eyes. “ _You_ are far too valuable to terminate, so I am forced to merely limit the spread of the damage you’ve done.”

“ _Fuck you._ ”

Kray backhands Lio hard across the face, and all Lio can feel is numb surprise that he hadn’t done it sooner. “Language, Deucalion,” he says flatly, and god, how he hates that stupid name. “Lord knows I have tried to be patient with you, but I have my limits. If euthanizing nearly two dozen healthy slaves is what it takes to teach you that your actions have consequences, then so be it. Their blood is on your hands.”

Lio swallows hard and looks away. Try as he might, he can’t deny that. If he’d succeeded, if he’d gotten them out, they would still be alive.

If he’d never tried at all…

Kray gently takes hold of Lio’s chin and tilts his face up. “I expect an apology for how you have inconvenienced me,” he says softly, and Lio wants to throw up. The death of twenty-three people is an _inconvenience_.

He lowers his eyes, not to show respect but because if he is not looking at Kray’s hateful face he can imagine he’s speaking to the murdered Burnish instead. Remorse for their deaths tightens his throat. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice shaking slightly.

Kray’s voice cuts into his grief. “I know you have the ability to address me properly.”

Lio takes a shaky breath, hating him. “I’m sorry,” he says tightly, “ _Master._ ”

The _click_ of Kray opening his shackles is all the warning he gets before he abruptly falls, collapsing to the ground with nothing left to hold him upright. On his hands and knees in the mud, he shivers and doesn’t move.

“Get up,” Kray’s voice sounds from above him. “You’re to be confined in the main house from now on, as you clearly cannot be trusted among your own kind unsupervised.”

Lio sits up on his knees, grimacing at how his body still aches. There is, Lio knows, a small cell adjoined to Kray’s bedroom, for the times when he wants one of his slaves close by. There is also, of course, Kray’s own bed. Lio can’t guess at where in particular Kray wants to place him, and at the moment he can’t bring himself to care. Serving in his master’s bedchamber is not a pleasant duty, but it feels like there’s not much Kray could do to him now that’s worse than what’s already happened.

“Like this?” Lio asks quietly, hesitant. He’s still naked, damp from the drizzle that had been falling into the courtyard most of the day, and while he’s well aware that clothes are a privilege and not a right in his position, Kray usually prefers his slaves to be properly dressed, at least around any guests or paid staff in his home.

This time, apparently, his desire to humiliate Lio outweighs whatever sense of propriety he possesses. “You heard me,” Kray says coldly. “Do not make me order you a second time.”

Shivering and wet and exposed, Lio follows his master into the house, really more of a grand suite of apartments adjoined to the main Foresight Foundation building. Most of the city’s wealthiest individuals live in the sprawling estates on the south side of town, but Kray prefers to be close to his work.

Even at this late hour there are a few slaves and staff going about their business, and Lio feels their eyes on him as they pass by, more shocked than lascivious. He is known to be the master’s favorite, after all. It’s a rare sight for him to be punished so publicly like this. Kray usually keeps his worst abuses behind closed doors, ever conscious of his image as the benevolent protector of Promepolis, compassionate even to the terrible Burnish. The public believes him to be a kind master to the Burnish under his care, and most especially to Deucalion, his lovely, treasured attendant.

The other slaves of the household, at least, tend to understand that Lio’s position is nothing to envy.

Lio is braced for more of Kray’s attention when they arrive in his private room, but he is merely shut into the slave’s cell next to the bedroom, locked in unceremoniously without being given clothes or a chance to wash. The small room is more like a closet, the floor space almost entirely taken up by a single thin cot. Lio sinks down onto it immediately, unable to think of much beyond pitiful gratitude for a chance to rest.

Despite his exhaustion it takes a while for sleep to claim him, his mind running circles around the events of the past week and refusing to stray far from the most painful topics at hand. The faces of the twenty-three murdered Burnish are burned into his mind’s eye, and he doesn’t even try to escape them; he owes it to them to remember, at the very least, though it’s a pitiful offering after what he did to them.

When he finally sleeps it is not restful, plagued with ghosts, with the heavy hand of his master closing around his neck. The same questions continue to haunt him, as inescapable in sleep as they are in waking.

_What does Kray want? And what happens to me now?_


	3. A Simple Favor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kray has a gift for Galo... or a request.

It’s been years since a Burnish was able to do as much damage as Deucalion did in his escape attempt, so naturally the media has taken notice, even if the supposed feral’s real identity is not widely known. Galo feels odd about the attention. It feels good to be praised, particularly when it comes from Gov Kray, whose official statement on the incident compliments Galo’s actions in glowing terms. But it also feels awkward to get so much of the spotlight when he knows the rest of the team did just as much as he did to protect the city. Maybe it wouldn’t embarrass him as much if he _knew_ , for sure, that he’d get the same attention even if he wasn’t the Governor’s former ward. But the sense that he’s being treated differently because of his connection to Kray… it’s always been uncomfortable. It’s one reason he’s glad Ignis has always been so hard on him. The captain expects a lot from everyone, and Galo is glad of the chance to meet those expectations on his own merits, regardless of his past or his connections.

Still, when Galo receives a dinner invitation from Kray a few weeks after the incident - “to offer you a small token of my appreciation,” the message reads - he doesn’t hesitate to accept. It’s rare enough that Kray has the time and opportunity to sit down and spend time with his protégé these days; the governor is always so busy. Galo honestly doesn’t think he needs any more reward or recognition than he’s already received, but he’s not going to pass up a chance to see the Gov. 

And - it feels silly to admit even to himself, but part of him is hoping for a chance to see Deucalion, too. Just as he’d said he would, Kray has kept his attendant out of the public eye for the past weeks, and Galo can’t help wondering how he’s doing now, if he’s regained control of himself, if he had to be sent back to the Foundation’s training center… He’d barely paid any attention to Lio before, aside from exchanging pleasantries to be polite, but for some reason now Galo is bothered by his absence. He can’t get the image of those eyes out of his head, burning with uncontrolled rage, so unlike the calm, controlled servant Galo had met before.

So he arrives at Kray’s residence at 6:30 on the dot, wearing his dress uniform, which is easily the most formal outfit he owns. A collared Burnish woman answers the door, in the same white-and-blue uniform Galo has always seen on Lio. “Mr. Thymos,” she says, dipping her head respectfully. “Master is expecting you in the dining room. I’m to escort you.”

She looks vaguely familiar, but although Galo racks his brain he can’t come up with her name. He doesn’t often visit Kray’s home, and Lio was usually the only one that Kray had accompany him outside the home, so he doesn’t often interact with Kray’s other Burnish. Galo just smiles and nods to her. “Thanks.”

He forgets, every time, how luxurious Kray’s place is. It’s a good thing the Burnish offered to guide him, because he always has the vague fear that he’s going to get lost in here and wind up somewhere embarrassing by accident. Still, the chance to see Kray in private like this is a rare treat, so Galo can put up with how out of place he feels. It’s not as if he can expect Kray to come visit him at home - Galo’s tiny apartment isn’t really set up for entertaining guests, and the idea of the governor himself showing up there is so ridiculous it’s funny. Galo’s landlord would probably freak out.

Kray is sitting at one end of his elegant dining room table, places already set for two, and Lio - Deucalion - stands behind him at his shoulder. He looks so natural in his usual place that it takes Galo a moment to register his surprise at seeing the Burnish at last. And aside from that— Galo realizes suddenly that he’s wearing the wrong colors. Aside from that strange armor on the rooftop, Galo has never seen him wearing anything but his uniform. Tonight he’s wearing a tightly fitted black blouse and shorts, instead; it’s simple but very flattering to the Burnish’s slender figure, and Galo has to make a conscious effort to keep his eyes from lingering.

Galo forces his gaze to Kray instead, cognizant of the fact that it’d be unconscionably rude to ignore him in favor of his slave. “Hey, Gov, thanks for inviting me,” Galo says, and Kray smiles at him warmly.

“Thank you for coming, Galo,” he says, standing up to grasp Galo’s hand and clap him on the shoulder. “I’m sorry it took me so long to be able to thank you in person like this.”

“Really, it’s not necessary,” Galo protests. “I was just doing my job.” His eyes flick back to Deucalion again, who hasn’t moved, his eyes downcast. “It’s - it’s good to see you too, Deucalion,” he says, and the Burnish starts slightly in surprise at being addressed, lifting his head briefly. “Are you doing better?”

“I-” He coughs, clears his throat. “Yes, sir,” he says, his voice quiet and deferential and entirely unlike the wild-eyed, armored figure who’d cursed at Galo on the rooftop. Galo finds himself wondering if this is what Lio’s voice always sounded like; it seems off, now. “Thank you.”

Galo laughs nervously. “Seriously, neither of you have to thank me, I didn’t do anything special.”

Kray and Galo take their seats, and Deucalion abruptly turns and leaves through a back door. He returns before long with food on a tray; apparently Kray is having him serve tonight, which Galo didn’t think was one of his usual duties. “Thank you,” he says as Deucalion pours him a glass of wine, and then gamely tries to look appreciative as he sips at it. He’s never particularly cared for wine, but knowing Kray it’s probably something expensive and special, and he doesn’t want to seem ungrateful.

After the way the invitation was worded, Galo’s expecting Kray to offer him some additional extravagant gift and feels preemptively awkward about it, but as the meal progresses and no offer is made he starts to relax. Perhaps the token of his appreciation is just a nice meal, and Galo doesn’t mind that in the slightest. Good food is good food, after all, and he’ll take any excuse for catching up with his mentor. Kray is mostly quiet, letting Galo talk, which is how it usually goes. Galo always has more than enough words to fill any silence, and he’s always been grateful that Kray is one of the people who doesn’t seem to mind. Deucalion doesn’t say a word, silently and efficiently waiting on both of them throughout the meal; it should make him invisible, but for some reason, Galo can’t quite forget about his presence. He wants to talk to him too, but doesn’t think that would be welcomed while Lio is working, so he restrains his questions, lets himself focus on Kray instead.

It’s only when they’re finished eating that Kray acknowledges Deucalion’s presence at all. The Burnish starts to clear the table only for his master to halt him, holding up a hand. “Deucalion,” Kray says, his voice quiet and gentle. Deucalion stills instantly, looking instinctively toward Kray.

“Yes, Master,” he says.

“Kneel down where we can both see you, please. Yes - right there.”

Deucalion doesn’t question this strange request; he sinks to his knees a couple feet from the table, back perfectly straight, hands clasped behind his back. Kray’s not looking at him, though; he’s watching Galo.

“What do you think of him?” Kray asks.

“Uh—” Galo blinks, trying to think of a way to respond to that unexpected question. He looks back at Deucalion, whose eyes are downcast as ever. “What do you mean?”

“It’s not a complicated question, Galo,” Kray says, just a hint of impatience entering his voice. “I want your opinion of Deucalion.”

It’s such a strange thing for Kray to be asking. And Galo’s not sure he can answer in any way that means anything; for some reason all he can conjure up in his mind is the image of Deucalion on that rooftop, eyes blazing, and it makes him feel _something,_ but he’s fairly sure that doesn’t count as an opinion.

“He’s… an ideal Burnish, Gov,” Galo finally manages, trying and failing not to look at Deucalion as he speaks. Deucalion isn’t looking at either of them, eyes neutral and distant as he stares at some fixed point near the floor. “I’ve always thought he was smart and loyal. It makes sense that you’ve kept him so close.”

Kray nods, looking pleased. “I’ve invested a great deal in him. You know, now, what he was before… it took considerable training to bring him to this point.”

“I bet,” Galo murmurs. It’s still difficult to believe that this is the same person who fought him on that rooftop.

“I told you I had a gift for you, but it might be more accurate to say I wanted to ask you a favor,” Kray says then, and Galo turns to stare at him, struggling to follow his mentor’s train of thought. “I would like you to have Deucalion.”

“I—” Galo thinks he sees Deucalion twitch out of the corner of his eye, as if startled, but he can only gape at Kray, momentarily speechless. “What?”

“I would not trust him to anyone else,” Kray says gravely. “But the truth is, as of late, Deucalion requires more personal attention than I have to give. We have brought his behavior under control, but it… concerns me, having him around the others unsupervised. He may fare better with you.”

“But…” Galo looks over at Lio, and finds the Burnish staring at him, looking as shocked as he feels. It’s the most expression Deucalion has had on his face all evening. “I- I can’t accept this, Gov, he’s way too valuable. I don’t know if I could take care of him properly, or…”

“I have every confidence in you,” Kray says firmly. “And I have fewer and fewer options with him. I can’t in good conscience sell him, considering his history, but if he continues to influence my other slaves the way he has, he will give me no choice but to cull him.”

Lio’s eyes snap to Kray as Galo watches him, his face suddenly taut with some expression Galo can’t quite interpret. Maybe it’s fear. He can’t want such a fate any more than Kray does… and maybe he can’t help the problems he’s been having. It must be terrifying, Galo thinks, being driven by impulse the way Burnish are, destroying everything around you and unable to stop yourself.

“All right,” Galo hears himself saying, looking back over at Kray. “I’ll take him.”

Kray smiles broadly. “I’m so relieved to hear that. What do you say, Deucalion?”

Still on his knees, Deucalion shifts slightly to face Galo, bowing his head low. “Thank you, Master,” he says, and it gives Galo a weird jolt to hear himself addressed like that. “I promise to be of use to you.”

Kray is no longer looking at his slave - his former slave - at all, still smiling at Galo. “We can handle the paperwork tomorrow, but you’re welcome to take him home tonight. Muriel will bring you what you need when she escorts you out.” That must be the woman who met him at the door. Galo tries to commit the name to memory, though he can tell he’s going to forget it again. Right now, he’s a little distracted.

As Kray talks about the logistics of signing over the slave’s ownership, Galo finds himself still watching Deucalion, part of him hoping for any hint of how the Burnish feels about his change in ownership. There is nothing, almost eerily so; Lio is perfectly still, his head still bowed, and what Galo can see of his face is expressionless once again. He hasn’t moved a muscle, and it occurs to Galo that he might be waiting for permission. Kray isn’t the one who gives him orders anymore.

“Uh, you can stand up,” Galo tells him, and Deucalion immediately rises to his feet. He still doesn’t speak, his hands still clasped behind his back, eyes still fixed on the floor. Galo tries to give him an encouraging smile, but if Lio sees it, he doesn’t slightly respond. His impassivity is strangely intimidating, almost inhuman. Deucalion’s rage and fire in the midst of his breakdown ironically felt far more human than this. The preternatural calm of the tamed Burnish has never felt strange or off-putting to Galo before, but now that he’s entirely responsible for Deucalion…

Galo swallows, hoping he hasn’t just signed up for more than he can handle.

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter: @BurningLio


End file.
